Page 65 of Thirty Days in Paris

‘Hey.’

‘Don’t forget to warm up and stretch.’

She felt a squiggle of pleasure at the sound of his voice. It was teasing, not hectoring.

‘I won’t.’ He had a point. She had been forgetting to stretch.

‘I need your advice.’

‘Of course.’

‘I’ve got a date tonight.’ He sounded a bit sheepish.

She stopped in her tracks on the way to the door. ‘Oh!’

‘I’ve been set up by someone at work. I don’t really want to go.’

‘So who’s the lucky lady?’ Juliet cringed even as she said it.

‘She’s an A and E consultant.’

‘Wow.’

‘I’m not sure I’m going to live up to her expectations.’

‘Of course you are!’ Juliet felt a surge of indignant loyalty.

‘Anyway, I’m committed now, so I need to know what to wear.’

‘You know the answer. Jeans and a nice shirt. The striped Paul Smith. Or the flowery one I got you for your birthday.’

She could picture him in it. He’d been very unsure about flowers at first, but she’d assured him that nothing was more irresistible than a man in a flowery shirt.

‘I was thinking of getting something new. Maybe plain white.’

Perhaps he didn’t want to go on a date wearing a shirt his ex-wife had given him.

‘White works. You’ll look great whatever.’

‘I think I’ll go to Westfield.’

Westfield? Once upon a time, she wouldn’t have been able to drag him there in a million years. ‘If you need advice just send me photos from the changing room.’

‘Thanks.’

‘And have fun.’

‘Mmmm.’ He sounded less than enthralled.

When she hung up, she felt odd. Not jealous exactly. Perhaps a little panicky that she’d made a mistake? Or maybe she felt protective? Stuart was such a darling and she wasn’t sure he was tough enough for the dating scene. Women could be brutal about their expectations and she didn’t want some uppity A and E consultant crushing him because he didn’t tick all her boxes.

But she couldn’t worry about him. He was a grown-up, and she had her own issues to sort out. Not my circus, not my monkeys, she told herself. But when she was bombarded by a slew of photos of him in a changing room, she spent a long time considering the options before texting him back.

The blue. By a country mile. Smokin’! xx

32

The next morning, Juliet woke with a lump of dread in her stomach. It wasn’t too late to cancel. Or she could just not turn up. But then Nathalie texted her a string of emojis – biceps and flames and thumbs up and hearts – and she felt a renewed determination. She dressed in a black-and-white silk shirt and her velvet jeans, hoping she looked like the kind of person who could buy a studio apartment on a grey November morning in Paris.

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